


Winter Visits

by octopus_fool



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Animals, Everybody Lives, M/M, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-12 00:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5646565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/pseuds/octopus_fool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin is amused when Bilbo packs a tent for the short journey to Tuckborough but his amusement does not last long...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Visits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fredbassett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/gifts).



“Why are you taking along a tent?” Thorin asked. “I know hobbits like taking along their share of food in case they get hungry along the road, but why would we need a tent?”

“It’s winter,” Bilbo huffed as the birds chirped in the bare tree above Bag End. “Better be safe than sorry.”

“But we are only visiting your relatives in Tuckborough. I thought the journey only takes a couple of hours? And this is the Shire, not the Misty Mountains. Even in the unlikely case of a sudden weather change this late in winter, the nearest inn won’t be far.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Bilbo repeated, shouldering his pack.

 

Bilbo stared at the dark clouds on the horizon. “Maybe we should have a nice drink in the Strutting Rooster and see if those clouds are coming our way.”

Thorin snorted. “Those are far away. It will take ages for them to get here. The only way they might reach us before we are in Tuckborough and become a problem is if we indeed head into the Strutting Rooster. Of course, if you prefer to drink a nice ale instead of visiting your family, that’s more than fine with me…”

Bilbo threw a wistful glance at the sign of the crowing rooster swinging in the wind above the inn’s entrance and they continued on their way.

 

The sun had disappeared and the wind had turned into strong gales, carrying a few snowflakes with them. Bilbo shot Thorin a pointed look but said nothing. Thorin’s face remained perfectly blank. He quickened his pace and Bilbo followed suit.

 

Tuckborough couldn’t be far, but it was impossible for Bilbo to recognize anything. The path had disappeared under heavy snowdrifts and neither snowfall nor storm showed any sign of giving out.

“The tent,” Thorin said. “There’s no use in continuing this way. We set up the tent.”

Bilbo quickly took the tent out and they set it up as well as the strong winds permitted. Bilbo squirmed inside and Thorin followed suit. They pulled their packs in as well, even though they had to use them as pillows in order for everything to fit, but at least the packs added more weight to the tent to prevent it from flying off.

“I’m afraid this isn’t going to be particularly cozy,” Thorin said. “But it will be better than nothing, so I’m glad you brought the tent. I underestimated the Shire weather. I’m sorry.”

Bilbo couldn’t help but grin, especially now that his feet were already starting to get considerably warmer under the blankets. He just barely resisted making a comment.

“It’s still no reason to be so smug,” Thorin grumbled.

“I just like seeing you admit I was right,” Bilbo said. “It reminds me of our journey.” He pressed a kiss onto Thorin’s icy nose.

Thorin grinned as well. “You weren’t right back then. I was just awfully wrong.”

Bilbo decided it was best to silence him for the moment.

 

When Bilbo woke, the wind had died down and it was as dark as snowy nights got, but there was something snuffling and crunching about in the snow outside. Bilbo put a hand on Thorin’s arm to wake him, only to find Thorin already alert. 

“Is that a warg?” Bilbo asked as quietly as possible.

Thorin shook his head and reached for the flap that held the tent closed.

“Don’t!” Bilbo gasped, but Thorin was already unfastening it and pushing it open.

Bilbo froze, just like Thorin. So did the surprised face that was close enough for them to see themselves reflected in the wide eyes surrounded by dark, furry spectacles.

Thorin started laughing. “A raccoon! Off you go, little [mugru ibsêk]()! Let us sleep!”

The raccoon blinked, showing no intention of taking off. Instead, one of its paws inched towards Bilbo’s pack, before suddenly grabbing hold of it and reaching inside with its other paw to grope around. The entire time, it didn’t take its eyes off Bilbo and Thorin.

“Oh, it’s a clever one,” Thorin laughed. “It wants some rent for the use of its land.”

He pulled Bilbo’s pack away from the raccoon and opened it, taking out the bag of fruit scones. The raccoon followed his every movement with its eyes.

“That’s our breakfast!” Bilbo protested. “You can’t give it to that thief!” 

The raccoon jumped back, eying Bilbo warily but not prepared to give up so quickly.

Thorin raised an eyebrow at Bilbo. “What would you have me do? Threaten it? Chase it down with my sword or perhaps an entire army? There should be enough scones in here to keep it happy for quite a while, probably at least for the night. If we sacrifice the scones, it will go away to eat them in peace and we can go back to sleep, which I would very much like to do. If we don’t, it will keep trying to get at the food and keep us up all night.”

“But what will we eat in the morning?” Bilbo asked. “I don’t want to go hungry because of this shameless thief!”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “I very much doubt you will go hungry. The storm has died down and Tuckborough will be easy to find without all that snow whirling around us. I would be very surprised if we don’t get more than our share of breakfast there. But I really would like to get some sleep now.”

Bilbo stared at the raccoon which was slowly coming closer again, then at Thorin.

He huffed. “Fine.” 

“Thank you,” Thorin said, giving him a quick kiss and then holding the bag out towards the raccoon.

The raccoon stared at the bag in Thorin’s hand, its little black nose working overtime. Then suddenly, it jumped forward, grabbed the bag and took off with it in its mouth, occasionally stopping to reposition the bag and check that it wasn’t being followed.

Bilbo had to laugh despite himself, feeling Thorin’s chuckles rumble beside him.

“It’s still a thief,” Bilbo complained when the raccoon had carried its spoils into the night. “And if you are wrong and we don’t get breakfast tomorrow morning, you’ll have to deal with my bad mood until we do.”

Thorin closed the flap of the tent and snuggled closer to Bilbo. “I’ll have to live with that risk, I’m afraid.”

 

The next morning found Thorin and Bilbo waking early as the sunlight was reflected by millions of snow crystals.

“I’m hungry,” Bilbo complained as he opened his eyes. “I dreamed of buttered pancakes.”

Thorin just gestured out past the flap of the tent. Bilbo blinked against the blinding light a couple of times. Finally, his eyes adjusted and he looked down the rise they had made camp on. A line of chimneys peered from the next hill, perfectly straight plumes of smoke rising from them and with them, the faint scent of pancakes.

Thorin and Bilbo took down the tent in record time and within a few minutes, they were sitting at a long wooden table surrounded by Tooks and happily chewing on pancakes, bacon and everything else a hobbit could wish for in a breakfast.

 

Not too far away in a hollow oak, a young raccoon started on another scone, hardly believing her luck. Perhaps she should try the tents and wagons of the large, bearded hobbits more often if they were all as generous as this one.

**Author's Note:**

> Khuzdul: mugru ibsêk – bear of washing
> 
> While raccoons probably wouldn't be part of the native fauna of middle-earth, I wouldn't be surprised if the Numenoreans introduced them and they spread... ;)


End file.
